Batman: Daemones
by Kreature56
Summary: My first batman fan fiction. The don't want to spoil too much in the description but here ya go. I hope you like it.
1. Chapter 1

The train was light today, it was always early.

A well dressed family stood at the platform. A man, a woman and a child.

The woman wore a long, gray dress, a small coat and a pearl necklace that shown with the highest of quality.

The man was taller than his wife and wore a black tux. His brown hair slicked back tight against his head with gel and grease.

The boy looked to be a miniature version of his father, all the way to the shoes. He held his mother's hand and waited for the train to come.

"Mom," the young boy said grabbing her dress. "Why is the train late?"

His mother looked down at her son and smiled with large white teeth. He always thought she had a beautiful smile. "I don't know, Bruce. Why do _you_ think its late?"

Bruce grinned, he loved when she gave him a chance to impress her with his intelligence.

"Maybe it had technickle difficulties." he said scrunching his eyebrows.

She giggled. "Yes, but the word is _technical_." As to not worry Bruce she turned to her husband and whispered, "How will we get home if the train doesn't come, Thomas?"

Thomas looked at his watch.

"It'll come just be -"

" _ **GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY**_!" A man in black jumped from out of nowhere with a gun pointed straight at the family.

Bruce ran behind his mother and Thomas protected them both with his body.

"I saws you coming out that theater. You got money, hand it over."

Thomas' hands shook as he reached into his pocket and took out his wallet.

"Here, this is all we have." He said standing to the side to show his small son and wife with no pockets. "Please don't hurt us."

The robber opened Thomas' wallet and took out the money. Before closing it, he spotted the ID.

"Wayne?" He said with surprise. "Use guys are billionaires, this can't be all you have."

The man jammed his gun toward them again. Bruce began to cry.

"It's OK baby" His mother said in a low, soothing voice.

"I like that necklace." The robber said staring at Mrs. Wayne's chest.

He lunged toward her and Thomas Wayne jumped between them, knocking the robber to the ground.

"Are you OK, Martha?"

"I'm fine."

 _ **POW!**_

Thomas' eyes widened and he sunk to the ground. Bruce watched his father bleed out on the pavement and the robber pointing a smoking gun. He was unable to move with fear.

A blood curdling scream came from his mother before another _**POW!**_ echoed throughout the empty train station. She too fell to the ground, The blood contrasting against her gray dress like morbid high fashion.

Bruce ran. He didn't turn his head back toward the crime. Not even after the sound of the train bells started to descend into the tiny station. He ran as far as his little legs could carry him. He ran until his lungs ached, and then he ran some more.

Bruce Wayne would never be the same.


	2. Chapter 2

"Master Wayne, You've been asleep for 12 hours. ITs time to be productive." Alfred, Bruce's butter, pulled the curtains back, allowing a flood of harsh light to enter the room. Bruce pulled the blankets over his face to avoid the sensitivity. For a 32-year-old man, he sure knew how to refuse to get up.

"Master Wayne, you know as much as I that you need to prepare for the charity."

"Mhhh" Bruce groaned "When is it?" He left the blanket draped over his face.

"Two o'clock," Alfred pulled the blanket hard, revealing a disheveled Bruce Wayne. "Its your charity, you should know this."

"You know as much as I that I do this for the exposure, not the charity."

Alfred raised an eyebrow at him. Bruce was hard to love but he did it. Alfred had cared for Bruce as long as he could remember.

"I know, Master Wayne." Alfred walked across the room to open Bruce's wardrobe. Suit jackets, pants and black socks lined the inside. He noticed how dusty it was inside. It had to have been a while since Bruce wore any of them. "I'll leave you to it than." Alfred said leaving the room.

The door swung and clicked shut behind him before Bruce sat up and looped his legs over the edge of the bed.

The wardrobe was only a few feet away but, he almost couldn't make himself get dressed. Social gatherings were a pain, but without the publicity, Wayne Enterprises would fade into nothing.

He strayed over to the closet and picked out a tux. He checked his hair in the mirror before leaving the room.

Alfred was already downstairs ready to go, standing at the entrance of the manor.

"Alfred, I'll make an appearance but after that I'm going downstairs."

Alfred nodded. "Understood Master Wayne."

He opened the door for Bruce and he exited with him into the garden. Bruce started his fake limp, something he always did around company. He liked to appear weak, fragile or even helpless to the people of Gotham.

It was almost two o'clock and people lined up at the entrance just beyond the fence.

"Alright." Bruce sighed. "Lets do this."

He put on his most practiced smile and Alfred opened the gate. Hundreds of people in dresses, tuxes, top hats, suits, bow ties and heels flooded the garden.

Bruce allowed each a handshake and a short hello. Alfred passed out the champagne and horderves, then handed Bruce a champagne glass full of ginger ale. Bruce didn't drink, but of course, nobody knew that. By the end of the night he would be so "drunk" nobody would want to be around him. That was exactly what he wanted.

The people mingled among themselves, talking about the charity. Bruce had already forgotten the cause for it, and they paid no attention to him anyway. He gave Alfred a short wave to signal him leaving and he exited back inside the manor.

Bruce didn't care about charities or balls, or even his own money. Bruce had a different hobby that kept him going everyday.

He descended down the stairs in the back of the manor and found himself in front of a wall, on it held a portrait of his parents. They were smiling and beaming down at Bruce and he smiled back as he placed a hand on his mother's arm. A small poof of air signals the doors release and he opened the wall, putting himself on the other side. An elevator lowed Bruce down into the depth of the basement or even further than that. When the elevator stopped Bruce was in his most favorite place. It was an underground lair, not much different in design to a cave. It had man-made walls and flooring but the lighting, size and atmosphere of a cave. At the center held a massive super computer. It towered toward the ceiling and took up a good amount of space. From where he stood, he could see a laboratory, gym and a garage.

Bruce walked down the path toward the huge computer. As he approached the screen turned on showing his latest research. A crazed looking man with green hair, smeared face paint resembling a clown and a woman with dual black and blond pigtails showed on the monitor. Bruce stared at the image for a few moments and turned away unable to look any longer. He walked around to the other side of the computer. On the other side was a thick wall and a button. He pushed the button revealing a large glass case. Inside stood an outfit unlike anything ever seen before. It was jet black and seemed made of armor but, the most obvious feature of the suit was a large white bat symbol on the center of the chest. It had its own kind of confidence.

Bruce smiled at the suit and knew as soon as the gathering upstairs finished, he would dawn the outfit and do what he loved doing most. Fighting crime.

For nobody knew this, Bruce Wayne was not just a "drunk, broken, charity holder," that everyone claimed he was, Bruce was a crime fighting, super genius known throughout Gotham as Batman, and he had a man to find.


End file.
